


Cursed to a Life

by Skeren



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Child Death, Feral Behavior, Forced Combat, M/M, Psychological Torture, Torture, Unethical Experimentation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 20:47:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5799487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skeren/pseuds/Skeren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes there is only deeper and deeper darkness, and the light has long lost the fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cursed to a Life

**Author's Note:**

> Written Originally in March of 2003, I can find no evidence that I ever posted this anywhere before.
> 
> It was to be written using this quote:  
> "If it meant you never see daylight again, would you really want to be forever cursed to a life like mine?"

The steady drip from the unknown water source was all he had as a way of judging time in any way other than what phase the moon was in. The steady decay of the others shrouded in the inky blackness was another indicator, though not as accurate due to the lower temperatures within this place. It wasn't constant enough to be reliable as a scent in the air.

Those who thought that Azkaban had been hell on earth had never been placed into, first a sensory deprivation cell, and then into a hole three miles below the surface. Yes, in Azkaban the mind was sucked of all hope and good feelings. That seemed petty in comparison to the constant darkness and near starvation that many of his kind were forced to suffer through due to 'good samaritans' trying to find a cure for the ugly curse they all carried.

Remus twitched his ears to catch the dying whimpers as the last of the surviving children finally succumbed to the harsh conditions and hopelessness of the underground internment camp. The vague thought of whether anyone was in a good range to take advantage of this opportunity whispered at the edges of his mind. Such a barbaric and immoral concept had ceased to faze him as his ability to even make coherent speech while human had dripped away as steadily as the water that he could not see.

He felt more than saw the sudden glare from the opening doorway. He would have cringed back in pain, but he barely had enough energy to close his eyes and flatten his ears to his skull at the seemingly loud thump of shoes hitting the floor of his personal hell. The onslaught of stimulous to the senses that had been deprived such interaction made him think he was going insane.

The tightening of what felt like a noose around his neck sent the wolf part of his mind into a frenzy. The human part of him may have given up long ago, but the wolf was made even more feral due to the harsh conditions. It would fight claw and fang for each breath inhaled. Despite the feral wolf mind in control, and the usual above par strength that characterized their kind, malntrition and countless types of test and torture had made him no more of a threat than that of a gumming infant. To the one dragging him down a cold white hall flanked by watch mirrors every five feet, it was probably even less still.

Catching a glimpse in one such mirror as the wolf part of his mind curled up in exhaustion, he couldn't help but see why they were labeled as dark creatures and monsters. Patches of his fur was missing to show scarred skin and raw muscle exposed. There with pus and different kinds of creature that feasted on this type of mutilation pockmarking his entire body, in and out of wounds. The blood and grime was so caked, and in some places ground into him, that it was futile to identify what color was truly underneath. The long, fragile looking limbs of bone and skin were hideous, with each rib still left in the chest between all but sticking out at the person unfortunate enough to witness such a _thing_ still being able to breathe. He'd never felt so hideous.

He was taken into a room where he was then assaulted by harsh pellets of boiling water and even harsher hands. He would have howled or whined as those hands, in single minded tandem, scrubbed and washed the unpleasant second layer of his pelt, but he had no energy for such a thing. The worked their fingers in deep, regardless of what was agitated or broken until finally even the pink tinge of blood from agitated wounds had ceased to leak off of his frame. He was then dragged to yet another room.

There, potion after potion, spell after spell, was placed and forced upon or within him. His stomach, so used to being empty, had rebelled several times. Each time the resulting congealment of fluids was spelled away and the process of being gorged on potions began anew. Only when his stomach had accepted the overcrowding within itself, and the last spell was exhausted upon him, was he then dragged to the place that could either be his death or another place for a new sin to condemn him back to where he had been. 

As the loud murmur of a large crowd drew nearer, and the many spells and potions started taking effect, the more the wolf took over and the tatters of Remus were shunted to a position of an unattached watcher to the events about to unfold.

Those tatters nearly wrestled control when he saw the pale skin and bright ebony hair of the figure kneeling to the side and behind the massive throne. Blank yet shattered eyes of deep forest green stared ahead, unmoving except for the rise and fall of the frail chest. A doll was all that was left of his friends' only son. A doll created from the supposed Savior of the Wizarding World for the entertainment of the Dark Lord who now ruled all.

He could do nothing for that child now.

The wolf though, was not interested in the motionless doll that sat at its master's feet, but in the scent of one who it had claimed as its own.

Despite the harsh treatment his family had undergone for being muggle lovers. His Ron was still able to keep his head high and gaze filled with defiant hate as he was steered into the ring. The crowd hoped to get as much enjoyment out of the pain that would ensue both physically and emotionally from this pairing. A werewolf banned from society and treated at the very best as a test subject and at worst as diseased piece of filth that was able to move, and the one who had been the werewolf's lover. They were in for a disappointment if they believed that the human mind was not present during the full moon, that the wolf was unaware of who this person was to him. The wolf knew that the person in front of him was his mate, but something had been done to force the fight or flight reflex to appear in full force. In the case of the alpha that was the wolf, it was an unfortunate fight or die reflex, and the dying was not something that any feral animal would allow without a fight.

The battle was long, long enough that both combatants were relying more and more on their own strength and stamina, and less on the potions and spells that had been coursing in and around them for this entertainment. The finale was not what the crowd was expecting or wanting, as the red head managed to shake the Imperious curse long enough for the now in control wolf of Remus to sink in teeth at the juncture of neck and shoulder for his end of their promise.

If it meant you would never see daylight again, would you really want to be forever cursed to a life like mine?

Strange how he never could remember what the response was to neither his question, nor certain events from then to now. He hoped the answer had been yes, for the wolf had fully claimed what it believed belonged to it now.

The phrase 'welcome to my personal hell' kept repeating itself over and over as the final inch of the wound scarred over and the eyes meeting his took a more amber edged glow. 

If it meant you would never see daylight again... and funny how such a wistful, whimsical, question of philosophy could become such a nightmarish truth.

When the fight was finished, the crowd in an agitated uproar over the lack of death, the Doll blankly watched in silence as the two lovers were cast back into the darkness below, leaving it in what passed for the light.

It was envious.


End file.
